Blacksmithing Is Child’s Play for a Dark Mage - Chapter 29

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 29
And.
Whether this world had converged in some similar way through evolution or not, I couldn’t say.
But Tax Collectors existed here.
And through a connection with the Silver Shield, I was able to meet one of Harundel’s Tax Collectors—specifically the one in charge of the Slums (Tax Collectors were typically assigned to territorial districts).
“So. I hear a famous person wished to meet me?”
Tax Collectors are fundamentally Quasi-Nobles.
There are several tiers among Quasi-Nobles, the lowest of which is Hyang Sa.
Tax Collectors typically receive the rank of Hyang Sa.
Without even such a title, anyone who’d made decent money as a commoner would start throwing their weight around.
Besides, this world has particularly many monsters, and there are mages and mercenaries who use Aura, so they typically travel with considerable security.
Or they possess such abilities themselves.
Patin, the Tax Collector who controlled the Slums district, fell into the latter category.
He himself was a swordsman at Aura Beginner level—the type who’d learned mathematics and literacy, paid bribes to the administrative office, and become a Tax Collector through that route.
And he was also a textbook opportunist of the strong-prey-on-weak variety.
“It’s better to pay taxes early, so I asked if we might meet,” I said.
Tei had recently become somewhat famous for earning a massive fortune.
Not so famous that the Royal Blood ruling the great city of Harundel would know of it, but at the levels below that—the mid-tier administrators—rumors circulated: “Some strange Black Mage is making obscene money.”
And.
Tei had paid the Silver Shield to summon Patin.
In other words.
The Silver Shield had become his backing.
So Tax Collector Patin couldn’t afford to ignore or extort him carelessly.
“I see. You mean to exploit the rule that if you pay this year’s taxes in advance, you have no problems with the law no matter how much you earn for the rest of the year. That right?”
His speech drifted between casual and formal registers—an odd mixture.
It meant Patin was testing Tei’s mettle.
Tei didn’t react to such probing.
In the end, resolving the tax issue was what mattered.
“You’ve already grasped it, I see. Yes, that’s correct. For now, I’d like to pay a reasonable sum and move past the matter this year.”
Having lived in this world long enough, Tei had learned something.
Namely, that the tax law of this era was a complete mess.
Back when he was a low-rank mercenary nobody, he hadn’t paid taxes (taxes were typically collected from landowners or large merchants; itinerant mercenaries found it nearly impossible to pay taxes in the first place, making collection difficult), but now that he had to, he’d done additional research.
“So I would appreciate it if you would assess this year’s taxes based on my current income.”
“Mm. Very well. Then what is the amount of your current earnings?”
Patin’s eyes gleamed.
The moment a Tax Collector loved most.
The moment of probing the other party’s income.
From this, a Tax Collector could gauge whether the other was inflating figures or understating them to avoid taxes—it was part of the fundamental skill of the profession.
Tei, naturally, quoted a figure somewhat lower.
“Monthly income of roughly four thousand Goldmanta gold coins.”
In truth, it was around eight thousand Goldmanta gold coins monthly, but he’d cut it exactly in half.
“…What?”
But Patin’s expression hardened at those words.
Four thousand monthly.
Converting to Korean currency, roughly four billion won.
Annually, that’s forty-eight billion!
This exceeded the annual revenue of most small to mid-sized merchant houses.
And a Black Mage—just one person—was earning it.
Even though Tei had already cut it in half, Patin’s expression turned incredulous!
And with reason.
A mere 1st Class (now 2nd Class, though not yet publicly known) Black Mage was earning that much?
Was this real? Actually real?
“Come now… don’t bluff. However much you make selling Magical Artifacts, that’s not…”
“The Sub-Master of the Silver Shield, Mark, can vouch for this. That’s why I’ve contracted his guild for a monthly fee of one thousand Goldmanta gold coins for protection services. If you need to verify, we can contact him directly.”
At Tei’s words, Patin’s mouth snapped shut.
Monthly payments of one thousand gold coins to the Silver Shield for protection?
Since he’d met Patin through the Silver Shield’s arrangement, he’d assumed they were his backing.
But hearing the amount the backing was being paid for, his mind reeled.
“Of course, I’m also making additional payments to the upper levels through the Silver Shield’s auspices.”
Taxes are the officially declared amount.
But naturally, everyone knows that under-the-table payments are better than official channels, don’t they?
Even lords enjoy lining their pockets with bribes.
As for the servants working beneath them—well, there’s no point even mentioning it. They just make themselves hoarse complaining.
This meant the Black Mage had already built up considerable connections.
Moreover, the Guild Master of the Silver Shield was a Holy Knight of Fides, the god of contracts and promises.
Such a person was not one whose agreements could be broken.
How could he arbitrarily inflate taxes on someone backed by such a figure?
‘This is… a bigger fish than I thought?’
Patin began calculating in his mind.
His cut, as the Tax Collector for the Slums district, came to 15% of the assessed amount.
If the monthly tax came to 4,000 dinn…
‘The more I squeeze out, the more that flows back to me. But…’
The problem was that this opponent was no pushover.
“So. How much do you intend to pay in taxes, then?”
Patin had shifted completely to formal speech.
He was beginning to recognize Tei as someone he could not simply disregard.
“I intend to pay this year’s taxes in full: 400 dinn in Goldmanta coins.”
“400 dinn!?”
Patin lurched to his feet.
“Are you mocking me!? You said your monthly income is 4,000 dinn, and yet you claim this year’s taxes are only 400!? That’s absolutely—”
Typically, merchants who opened shops and conducted business in cities of this era paid a tax rate of a full 25%.
And even that was after deducting various additional levies.
Transit taxes owed to lords whenever crossing borders between cities were separate, special taxes were imposed depending on goods, and additional levies were tacked on for moving personnel.
Because of all this, merchants had no choice but to mark up prices dramatically when selling goods from their place of origin to other regions.
“Please, sit down.”
Tei’s voice was quiet.
But in the very instant that quiet voice fell—
something shifted.
Tei’s shadow writhed.
Slip.
From the shadow emerged an imp butler wearing a monocle—Glashalabolias—materializing halfway into view.
An intelligent, handsome face dressed in a tuxedo. And nearby, hovering about him, a small book.
Cold sweat trickled down the length of Patin’s spine.
—You have been exposed to a fluctuation of Mental Erosion (lowest grade).
Of course, this message appeared only on Tei’s system display.
But the terror Patin felt was entirely real.
Even a swordsman at the beginner level of Aura cultivation had no resistance to a demon’s Mental Erosion.
Patin’s face had gone pale.
His hand found the grip of his sword at his hip, but he could not muster the resolve to draw it.
A demon.
A being from the Nine Hells was standing right before him, looking down at him!
“This human appears to be treating his contractual partner with disrespect.”
Glashalabolias’s cold voice rang out.
The eyes beyond the monocle pierced through Patin’s gaze.
“A… a demon…”
“Yes, a demon. Is there a problem? It’s only natural for a Black Mage to summon demons, isn’t it?”
Patin’s legs trembled. He practically collapsed back into his chair.
Watching this display, Tei murmured quietly to himself.
‘Strong against the weak, weak against the strong—it really does make things convenient.’
Tei propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands.
“Collector Patin. Please, compose yourself and hear me out.”
“…Y-yes. I’ll listen.”
“I am a Black Mage. And the items I create—magical artifacts like the Bone Spear, you understand. These are being sold to Harundel’s mercenaries.”
“Y-yes, I am aware of that.”
“These items are directly tied to Harundel’s mercenary industry. They allow mercenaries to work more safely, to hunt monsters more efficiently. In other words—”
Tei paused before continuing.
“I am indirectly contributing to the maintenance of Harundel’s public order. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Well… that is one way to look at it, but…”
“And I will create even more items going forward. Better ones. When that happens, Harundel’s mercenary forces will grow stronger. Surely the Marquis would be pleased by that, no?”
At the mention of the Marquis, Patin’s eyes wavered.
The Marquis, Your Excellency.
Harundel’s absolute ruler.
A Tax Collector was the kind of creature whose neck could be severed by a single gesture from the Marquis.
“Of course, the reverse is equally possible.”
Tei’s voice dropped lower still.
“If I grow weary of these tax troubles and abandon Harundel altogether? Your supply of Bone Spears dries up. Your mercenaries’ combat strength plummets. The sewers go unpatrolled. And who bears responsibility for that?”
“That is… well…”
“Imagine the rumors that would spread: he levied excessive taxes, so his most valuable asset simply left.”
Patin’s face turned the color of ash.
This was not mere intimidation.
It was a perfectly logical argument woven tight as wire, and at the same time—a wickedly elegant threat.
‘This Black Mage bastard… he should be in politics, not peddling goods!’
Then.
Tei placed something on the table.
‘What?’
Patin blinked.
A small object.
Small enough to rest in a palm. Fashioned from bone, but its shape was grotesque.
It resembled an animal skull in form; within the eye sockets, a sickly crimson light pulsed and flickered.
And the moment Patin saw it.
Something shrieked inside his mind.
Keeeeeeeee.
“Agh!”
Patin grabbed his temples.
His head was ringing.
Not a normal headache.
A sound from somewhere deeper—like fingernails scraping across his very soul!
The Black Mage is Too Overpowered as a Blacksmith
Author |
Automaton G
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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